Not Together
by Red Tigress
Summary: Movie-verse, ficlet, one-shot. Just because they're no longer together, doesn't mean they don't care. Barton/Romanoff.


_A/N: Again, I still haven't seen the movie because it hasn't been released here and DC wasn't awesome enough to get the votes together for a damn screening. So I'm just inferring this all. Is there a name for this ship yet? Blackhawk? I dunno. Enjoy!_

Things didn't always work out when one is involved in a relationship with a coworker. In fact, there's generally a 90% chance they won't.

That number increases astronomically when said relationship takes place in the middle of life and death situations every day.

They had had a relationship, sure. One built on years of earning each other's trust, letting tiny secrets and truths trickle out little by little. It was slow. But finally they felt comfortable enough around each other for complete trust.

And they tried something more.

They knew it wouldn't work out, even if they didn't admit it to themselves, not at first. They were both lonely and they both shared experiences they couldn't talk about anyone else with.

But there comes a point where one has to separate the job from personal life. And after months of fighting, after months of waking up, looking into each other's faces and seeing the job, they both agreed they couldn't do it anymore.

Not that they didn't still care about each other.

It had been a bad mission. Bystanders had died. Children.

Everybody dealt with it in their own way, before they'd eventually come together, not speaking, just taking comfort in the presence of others. Stark was drinking and working on something in his lab. Rogers was drawing something in the unusual silence of the living room. Thor was out on the helicopter pad, gazing into the night. Banner had half of his research papers spread out on kitchen bar eyes glued to his laptop screen.

Clint knew Natasha preferred being alone. They all did really.

But he also knew missions where kids got killed were particularly hard on her. Something she hadn't shared with the rest of the team.

He knocked lightly on her door, but there was no answer. He opened it slowly, half-expecting a knife to be thrown at his face. But instead, there was a deep sniff, and he could see her shoulders shake from where she was sitting on the floor, looking out the floor to ceiling window overlooking Manhattan.

He didn't say anything, just sat down next to her, wrapping one arm around her shoulders. She didn't lean into the touch, didn't look at him, but he knew she appreciated it because she didn't turn around and snap his elbow.

He didn't say "it's okay," because it wasn't. He just sat there, his arm around her, until she got herself under control enough to breathe normally.

Finally, she whispered "I don't need you to hold my hand."

"I know," he said softly back. "But we all need someone to sit next to now and again."

She nodded, standing up. She didn't thank him, but she didn't need to. They understood each other.

They both walked to the kitchen together, finding the other four Avengers, laughing and drinking, and watching a projected hologram of Thor falling of his face during a mission a few weeks prior. No one said anything as Clint and Natasha joined them, except Tony who was smiling.

"Oh good, now that you're here, I feel like I can show this in good taste." He waved his hand through the air, scrubbing the image of Thor and pulling up another one of Clint kneeling on top of a bus, bow at full draw. "Play."

They all laughed when the video played, and the bus moved forward in a jerking motion, sending Clint falling on his back then rolling off the top of the bus. Clint winced, chuckling. "That really hurt! I still don't understand why that guy was trying to drive his bus through a warzone."

"The MTA take their work VERY seriously," Bruce commented.

"Yeah, remember the one time Cap chased that guy into the subway, and the train just kept on going…"

Natasha gave an unseen smile at Clint, which he returned. They both understood that even though they weren't together, they weren't alone.


End file.
